mistressmirandah

Mim

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Blossom by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Blossom

You were gone and I was just fine with that. You're here once again. Confidence lost, nothing coincides and I'm lost. No memory to save me from what you are, No forgiveness for my decision, I know what I've done Don't pretend it's all the same. The rules have changed; I'm not giving in this time. First representation of my pain, you've forgotten just how miserable you can be. Can't you resolve your life without me? I'm no answer to your prayers. A small playing part in the production of your life, I disappeared long ago, yet still felt it seems. Letting go obviously doesn't figure in your equation. I tried so hard to never get

The Bed of the Phoenix by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

The Bed of the Phoenix

I dreamed long ago that the angels would come collect me from the ashes I never imagined that they would leave me lying there so broken Staring up at what I thought were the stars, I called out to a god I wasn't sure was there at all I sensed then that I was alone, truly abandoned I realize now that nothing was as I had believed just then The angels wouldn't have come had I pleaded any further The god I was never sure of was in fact not there And never would be. The ashes were meant to be my salvation then, I thought. Like an unruly phoenix, I thought to rise on my own Shocked was I when I realized I could not. I waited not patien

Left by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Left

Heavens, couldn't you have known the truth, The touch of my breath on your cheek The mark you left Honesty has broken its back trying to show through Yet the eyes of desire closed to its sway. Cold oceanic rain washes away what used to be Left behind are the leftovers, the leave-ins, and the left socialist-communist pieces Poison seeps in through a crack in your belief

Never Really Gone by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Never Really Gone

He was never really gone, my brother. Not until that fatal phone call. I don't remember whether the weather was fair; Only that I felt my spirit was sinking to the floor. My heart hadn't broken until I heard his voice. Not his, a strangers'. Until then he had 'always been there' and all was well. Before that moment, he was never really gone. I could remember laughing with him and it didn't hurt to breathe. But those words, he opened his mouth and closed his heart to me forever. Nothing was truly understood as I had hoped. My words ouldn't pass through the barrier of nearly two years. I wanted to cry and no one could understand why

Fabric by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Fabric

You drew blood from my veins the way red marker beeds through fabric. You tried so hard to tear the fabric of my morality. Nothing pains me the way you did. I never imagined I could get by; get over; get on. The explanations are endless but the result is the same. Victoria! My name is thy will. Fabric turns to iron, my will is strong. Tarnished by your slurs, my reputation endures. Much is better with time. Never squeeze blood from a stone sharpened. Know the boundaries of your ways. Never needed your sympathy, your empathy. The epithets. I chose my own fabrics to weave. Nothing's stronger than faith and will. Behold the tapes

The Lifelong Battle With Faith by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

The Lifelong Battle With Faith

As the end of Pope John Paul II draws near, I'm drawn to memories of my grandmother's funeral in October of 2003. Though the only parallels present are prayers spoken in a different language and memories of the scent of beeswax candles, the feeling is still strong. Even as a young child I never had much interest or respect for the Pope; his life always seemed so far removed from the one that I lived in elementary Catholic school. I don't think I even knew what he looked like until just before I transferred to Aurora High my grade eleven year. Though my grandparents attended church every Sunday that there was mass in Arran, - only once a month

Fallen Pedestal by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Fallen Pedestal

You couldn't possibly wait another day; Not another minute could you spare. Swore to high ground and the heavens beyond, you did; Everything was just as you had hoped. Nothing could stop you once the stars spelled out my name. "Pretty!" You declared, "My Pretty." Thus my pedestal was erected, No protest could lower my feet to ground level again. Not until I broke the promise I said I might not be able to keep. Pedestal whisked out from my toes, I clattered unceremoniously back toward the Earth. But what now of my pedestal? Someone else's name obscures the faded remnants of your previous etchings. I should have known there was not

Music As A Weapon by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Music As A Weapon

It's always more than obvious whenever a rock concert is in the Toronto vicinity. Teenagers in t-shirts emblazoned with the visiting bands name appear on every corner for blocks in either direction. If you don't know about it previous to the night of the concert, chances are you're at least vaguely aware by five p.m. Such an event occurred on April 21st [2004], with A Perfect Circle gracing Ricoh Centre's stage. It's been four years since the band last stopped in Toronto during a tour. Their last appearance was as an opening act for the hugely popular Industrial band, Nine Inch Nails. This time however, the band is headlining, having capture

What She Saw by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

What She Saw

There is forever a difference between the truth and what people tell you; Words unspoken breed bitterness yet built up lies breed venom. The death of a world once known. Lies from those once adored, The ones who swore they loved. Never imagine - never fathom - the attack. Whosoever be my ally be my enemy still, Appalled at the sequence I've taken in. Family. Family, how could you lie? Made up truths are harder to bear. The legitimacy of a voice so familiar, The sureness in what someone desires to hear. "I am not a monster," she cried, "I've stood tall on my own!" I gave back to a world that never gave in. Don't you see? Can't y

Solemn Standard Outline by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Solemn Standard Outline

Ever wonder, The world began all on it's own did it? Indeed, the truth be known: I had no help in it. Forever favour what's left behind The histories left in my wake and in yours, too. I'll never wonder at the waking. At the dreams fortold me within. Oh, Heavens above, the names breathe silent; There is yet nothing to behold. The treaties broken, bereft, stand solemn behind their devastating affections. Shan't the days bequeath my sorrow? Wrought of nothing, the battle is never won. I cannot bring you peace, Though I wish I could have you wear your honour. Levelled is the playground of the past; Mountains stand high before you

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Hidden Mistress by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Hidden Mistress

You don\'t even think of me until the sun goes down. The night belongs to you and I. Only because it\'s easier to hide in the shadows. I am your hidden Mistress. You\'ve never been honest enough to prove me to be otherwise. Sunset. Late night. Almost a new sunrise. Still I hear your voice. Imagine your breath on my skin again. Remember kisses and blindfolds. I am the Mistress, the secret, the desire. You can leave me behind in the darkness. No regrets. That\'s why you still keep me. Late night phone calls still intrigue you. I give you what you want, So that you can get through another day. A day where she\'s waiting for you.

Bleed For Him by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Bleed For Him

Now that I'm gone he can't help but bleed for my attention, Speak so many more of those venomous words that have no serum. Now that we're lost to one another the tides no longer run straight and equal. One hand is always heavier than the other. Tears prove nothing and bring nothing more than self-hate. There's no moving forward when I'm being so pushed back. I won't ever tell anyone a damn thing that I cannot tell myself. So then how can I tell anyone that this doesn't hurt? I don't want pity; I just want what is mine. I want my life back, and I want it without him, For what good is having him there if all he intends to do is hurt m

Him by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Him

He spoke and it was as if someone had opened a window in the room she had painted red with fury and let that fury wash away. Somehow those thoughts that had only moments ago clouded her mind with terrible images dissolved into nothingness. The sound of his voice reminded her that the world wasn't always so bitter and unfeeling. He spoke as though he were standing there beside her, with his arms encircling her waist, whispering in her ear. As she walked in the rain, it suddenly didn't feel as cold. His voice was the only thing that she could truly hold onto. Seeing his stunning eyes and holding him were the only things she could thin

A Doll House by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

A Doll House

In a doll's house things are so perfect. Everything has its place neatly tucked away. Nothing is amiss. But in this house it's not the same. Things are broken, shattered like the hearts inside us. In a doll's house mommy and daddy tell the perfect children 'I love you' as they sit down to a perfect dinner. But in this house bitter words are spoken and screamed, The food id tainted with malice and tears. No I love yous, no smiles here. In a doll's house no one's afraid. Everyone smiles the smile of eternity. Children talk of the days events to attentive ears, no one runs out of stories, No one runs out of smiles. But in this house

The Secret Wind by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

The Secret Wind

Strands of my hair blow across my eyes As I stare into the starless night. Thinking only makes it harder for me to breathe; These nights when I remember what I miss. There is little room for reality I want the dreams to take over. It\'s been so long since I\'ve kissed you, The taste still hasn\'t left my lips. Bitter that last night I kissed you, So fitfully perfect each time before. Still I wish it had never ended Just the way that it ever did. The wind gusts cold about my skirts; Cold like how I\'ve felt since you left. Truth has never gotten in the way Of how I\'ve felt since first we spoke. The world will never

Secrets Unraveled by mistressmirandah, literature

Jaded Twin Mindset by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Jaded Twin Mindset

Again I\'m on the ground. Again I\'m on the ground. Been thrown down, now forgotten about. All the time trying only to please you. Giving in, won\'t let me in. So how does it feel to be treated so much like everyone else? How does it feel to get only a glance when you\'re used to a gape? No one fucking cares anyways, so why all the goddamn drama? Lose the attitude because I\'m sick of being forgotten anyways. Spent too much of your goddamn time whishing I was that something else. I never was, though you wished it were so. I\'m no fucking different from the rest of the world that hates you for who you are. Sometimes anyways

I Fade by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

I Fade

In a world driven by money and sucess, I have neither. So held down by that which I do not have, I can\'t even pick up and start over. Dreams of the world disguised as a beautiful place destroy my reality. Dreams of anything at all take what little I have; They douse the tiny flame that sustains me. The things that keep me strong are fading; I can\'t remember their names. It all fades. Driven by loneliness, By the pain that is always there; I bleed. And I fade. Nothing of who I once was, Living on memories and the words they use to describe me; I\'m fading. Heavy burden, this life, this shadow. Sad. I stand alone. I fade.

The Abstract Lover by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

The Abstract Lover

A memory, a thought, a dream. That's what you are. An enlightened moment in time. A beacon in the night. A loss of words that I shall never articulate. And I am left behind. A cry in the ever-spreading night. Because I need to kiss you, to embrace you. Because I have to have you and I never will. The pain, it entrances me, you envelop me. You overcome me and intensify my desire to be loved. To be loved by only you. And it shall never be. Because I am alone without you. And I need you. I cry out for you. I reach out for you. Yet you are deaf, yet you are unreachable. Still, it is not your fault. Neither are you cruel-hearted

Like You Said It Should Be by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Like You Said It Should Be

You've calmed the storm that's always raged in my head, You've brought reality to the sickness in my heart. Your love feeds my ever-sinking soul, the pieces left of what they tried to teach me about life and living in it without you, Without the one that would surely save me from myself at last. Stop my crying, stop my pain, you're all I have left in the world that says I should have more, that I should feel less. Pathetic broken streetlight reveries, and blood soaked bathroom stalls are what make up the spaces in my head. Endless kisses with a taste likened to liquid diamond hearts, and internal arguments that always end with the

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Haunted Arran by mistressmirandah, literature

Literature

Haunted Arran

Street lamps lighting the way like oases in the night, Chasing the darkness through the town like a ghost lost long ago. Safely home, the night still presses to get in. The wind fluttering the curtains beckons for me to step again in the shadows. Back outside, responding to the ominous call of nothing, I sense the longing; the loneliness of a town that's seen better days. Shop windows boarded up like bandaged and unseeing eyes, doors locked forever and faded signs advertising long out-dated prices for milk. Quiet, too quiet, each shut-up storefront like a forgotten tombstone of rememberance. All those yesterdays so far behind; All t

Haunted Arran

mistressmirandah

About mistressmirandah

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Artist

Canada
Deviant for 21 years
www.deadjournal.com/users/Mirandah
She / Her

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My Bio

Current Residence: Toronto Area
Favourite genre of music: anything
Operating System: I'm forced to use Windows
MP3 player of choice: Creative Zen
Wallpaper of choice: Stitch of the Opera
Favourite cartoon character: Marvin the Martian, Hello Kitty
Personal Quote: Don't bother fighting for anyone else if you can't fight for yourself

Favourite Visual Artist

Cynthia Gould

Favourite Movies

The Boondock Saints, lots of others

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Too many to choose

Favourite Writers

Robert Frost, Anne Rice

Favourite Games

Dice

Favourite Gaming Platform

XBox 360

Tools of the Trade

My imagination, life, my book, a pen

Other Interests

singing, reading, writing, stuff....

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mistressmirandah

Sep 30, 2007

Problems in the Ukraine Election. Again.

0 min read

Canadian election observers in Ukraine face harassment RICHARD VAN ABBE THE CANADIAN PRESS September 28, 2007 at 7:31 PM EDT TORONTO  A group of Canadians in Ukraine to observe this weekend's national elections were harassed and threatened by local officials on Friday after questioning apparent irregularities in voting procedures. Gerard Kennedy said his group of 18 observers was shouted at, threatened with arrest and denounced as provocateurs on local television by party officials at an election centre in Mariupol, a regional industrial centre in southeast Ukraine. The former Ontario education minister and Liberal leadership cand

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mistressmirandah

Mar 20, 2007

Thinking About Home

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I submitted a paper last month for my History of Education in Canada course detailing the memories of one of Arran School's principals and his wife. Recieving an A (88%) is the next of many rewarding instances surrounding the work I've so far put into this project. Though I'm disappointed with the course itself I'm grateful for the opportunity to recieve credit and the acknowledgment of acadamia for something that I've been so proud of my whole life. Though Arran is a small farming community with barely forty people now living in it, it's history is just as valuable as that of any other town. An early passage in Schmemann's work articulates w

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mistressmirandah

Feb 8, 2007

Trent Has Lost Yet Another

0 min read

I've been saying this since I saw the announcement, and I feel terrible for it, but thank the gods I didn't know him. What's awkward for me is how close his death is to the time of year that I think about Mikey and Phil. The end of this month will herald five and four years since we've lost them. Though I didn't know this boy, it still brought  the same twinge of pain it always does when I think of it. I do, however, know a few of his friends and watching them go through the same anguish we all went through those years ago is just as painful as if I were to know him myself. James knew this boy, and knew the one who died three months ago as we

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Profile Comments 61

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Happy Belated!

Thanks for the favs!

Happy Belated! Usually DJ sends me a thing when it's somebody's birthday, but I guess they missed it this year

. Hope it was a good one!

lorraine-schleter

Apr 5, 2006

thanks so much for the fave! ^_^

themapper

Sep 3, 2005

Where you going to go to university? UofT? Some place else? Going to prolly go through town for a board meeting in NB. I'm on FSC-Canada (www.fsc.org) board of directors, so I will be going through at any rate.

Would like to connect with you at some point, as I cross Canada at times.

Russ

I love you! -squish-

thank you muchly for the fav